


Lands Unconquered

by Arnica



Series: Torchwood a/b/o [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, M/M, References to Knotting, Virginity or Celibacy Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arnica/pseuds/Arnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was always going to come down to this. Ianto knew it from the moment Jack Harkness thought scenting him was more important than getting out from under a plummeting pterodactyl and he thought he was ready. He’s not.</p>
<p>Part three of an alpha/beta/omega mini-verse done for Kink_bingo round 5 at Dreamwidth!</p>
<p>Kind of dubcon in a 'taking one for the team' kind of way</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lands Unconquered

  
Owen Harper, who is a beta and a douche bag, takes one look at Ianto on his first day and announces at the top of his lungs that he’s not sure if they have any birth control for omegas in stock so ‘Harkness’ is to keep his knot in his pants. Ianto makes sure to give him a cup of his best coffee along with everyone else that morning, just so he understands what he’s missing out on as Ianto brings him the cheapest, foulest, instant coffee mix he can unearth for the next two weeks.

 

The women are easily handled in that Agent Sato is both beta and completely uninterested in anything other than her job or Doctor Harper. Second-in-command Costello apparently prefers her omega’s small and in heels and her betas shaped like, again, Doctor Harper which mostly just tells him that the remains of Torchwood has terrible taste, although she does take him aside on that same humiliating first day to let him know he can always come to her if Jack ever makes him uncomfortable in any way. She’s tall for a woman and obviously doing what she thinks is her duty, so Ianto curls his toes in his shoes instead of clenching his fists and doesn’t point out that he’s taller than Jack and big enough that on scent blockers he’s more often mistaken for an alpha than a beta, thanking her instead.

 

Oddly enough, Captain Harkness is the only one who doesn’t make a big deal about his biology. The man notices it, makes it obvious the way he scents the air every time Ianto walks in like he just can’t help himself, but he’s the only person in years who’s never tried to make Ianto’s biology about anything other than sex.

 

It’d be refreshing, if the man wasn’t _really_ interested in the sex.

 

Ianto’s not mad at him, not even annoyed really. He’s been using himself as bait for weeks now, a combination distraction and reward to keep the alpha out of the sub-basements where Lisa is lying, sleepy and sicker every day, and rewards only work if you hand them out, so this is him; Ianto Jones, twenty-three and unknotted, about to give it up to his boss in a dusty back room in the archives to keep him from going hunting around the sub levels looking for some thing Jack thinks Ianto would find interesting. He’s sitting awkwardly on the corner of a filing cabinet, hands clenched in the lapels of Jack’s greatcoat so the man can’t see them shake, one leg wrapped around the slim hips pressing between his knees as he tries not to compare how it feels with him against how it felt with Lisa. Tries not to freak out that Captain Harkness’ teeth on his throat feel just as good as hers did. Kind of freaks out a little anyway when the huge, masculine hand palming his cock through the light wool blend of his suit gets him a little wet for the first time in months.

 

“Hey, shh.” Ianto isn’t just breathless, is actually kind of trying not to gasp for air which is impossible to play down when Jack has his tongue in Ianto’s mouth and can see the desperate rise and fall of his chest through the unbuttoned shirt. “It’s just me. You don’t…you know this isn’t in the job description right?” Jack is pulling the edges of Ianto’s shirt back together, smoothing steady hands down the curve of his biceps underneath the suit jacket he’s still wearing. “I’m not going to fire you for not sleeping with me.”

 

“You wouldn’t hire me until you knew what I was.” It’s a stupid thing to say. He can see it in the way Jack’s eyes shutter as he begins to pull back and he’s about to fuck up several uncomfortable weeks at Torchwood three if he can’t come up with a good excuse. “I don’t…I didn’t mean it, I say stupid things when I’m nervous. I just…I’ve never done this before.”  Bingo. The captain’s eyes are focused back on Ianto now; the creeping red flush working up his bare chest and the tremble in his hands.

 

“ _This_ is kind of a broad term.” The captain is leaning back in again, hands that had been cupping Ianto’s shoulders trailing suggestively down his arms. “You’ve never shagged your boss before, you’ve never had an office affair before…”

 

“I’ve never been knotted.” It spills out of him in a rush and Ianto can’t bear looking up from his fingers clenched together, but he hears the stutter in the other mans breathing, smells the spike of adreline and testosterone dumped in the air. Above and beyond all things, alphas love to leave their mark and as far as Jack is concerned Ianto’s stumbled words have just erased nine years of satisfied women and heats where alphas were the ones walking away bowlegged. He’s just become better than fresh snow, clean paper, and the first biscuit in the package all rolled together because now he’s new; _virgin_.

 

“Oh.” Jack’s voice shakes a little as he breathes it out against the shell of Ianto’s ear, scenting him again, hands running possessively up and down the boy’s arms. “You know I want to be first now, don’t you? Every time I see you bustling around the Hub I’m going to be imagining the look on your face when I tie you the first time, how big those pretty blue eyes will look the first time you realize what it actually feels like.” It’s just typically knot-headed dirty talk and Ianto’s heard it a thousand times from other alpha males who thought they could change his mind and make him _normal_ , but this is the first time he’s ever wanted, even for a second, to actually try it. Ianto tries to cling to that feeling as he leans backwards, bracing himself on his palms, and looking up at Jack through his lashes.

 

“Go ahead then. You c-can.” He didn’t mean to stutter, hates that this part of his life that he’s used as part of his identity so long is just another mask to be slipped on and discarded now, but Jack apparently finds it charming from the gentle way he tips Ianto’s chin up, dragging the wide rough pad of his thumb over the swell of Ianto’s lower lip.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind for later.” Jack leans in again, kissing Ianto until he’s clinging to the body looming over his for support. “For now we’ll go slow.” And even though he desperately wants to kick the other man in the teeth for treating him like some small chaste little female, Ianto smiles shyly up at the man smirking down at him. 

 

The longer Jack wants to drag this little seduction game of his out, the better it is, for Lisa anyway. 

 

Two weeks later, Ianto is rethinking that ‘dragging out the seduction is good’ line of thinking. Jack has been watching him exactly the way he said he would and every time Ianto sees him staring, blue eyes focused solely on himself, he can’t stop thinking about the growl in his boss’ voice when he talked about tying him on. He’s nervous, strung out, and frighteningly aroused for the first time in months, trying to minimize the amount of encounters the older man has to corner him against things; getting him used to the feel of a body larger than his pressing against him as he kisses Ianto to the edge of distraction, murmuring filthy, upsettingly sexy things in his ear about what the alpha is going to do to him. It leaves him guilty and embarrassed the first time he has to sneak past Jack and go to Lisa, still slick and smelling like another alpha, and pushes him past guilt into desperate determination when her nostrils never so much as flare and she doesn’t say a single thing about it.

 

He tries telling her once, curled in the uncomfortable and broken office chair he scavenged from one of the lower levels. He tangles their fingers together and tells her exactly how terrible it’s been since the Cybermen shoved him in the far corner of the slaughter pen, unsure if his gender still made him unsuitable for conversion like the rest of the omegas in the tower, all sixty-one of them female. He tells her about being close enough to see and hear the conversion pens, about how he thinks he heard her being wrestled through. He confesses that he’s frightened of the way she smells, metallic and neutered, the way she looks at him sometimes like he’s unfamiliar, and that he’s still going to do everything he can to save her because he can’t think of a single other reason to get up in the mornings. He tells her everything that crosses his mind for almost an hour and then he gets up, checks on the monitors that say she’s still in that eerie fugue state she stays in more often than not, and heads upstairs to order lunch before someone goes looking for him.

 

He doesn’t admit, even then, that he’s not sure how he feels about Jack and the way his own seduction plan is being turned against him.

 

Honestly, he’s not sure how Jack finds the time to molest Ianto as often as he does between the unending piles of paperwork the man has to fill and file, the alien detritus that continuously rains down on Cardiff, and the occasional aggressive alien that the team piles out to wrangle into submission or terminate on feels like a weekly basis sometimes, but Jack always finds time for Ianto. Jack tracks him down in the archives to press Ianto against the shelves, jerking him off with a grin on his face as he murmurs in Ianto’s ear how they’re not even hidden in the stacks and anyone who comes in will see them. Sucks him off on Ianto’s own desk up in the tourist office behind the beaded curtain, one of Ianto’s long legs held up on Jack’s wide shoulder by a rock solid grip, the captain’s big blunt thumb swirling through the slickness leaking out of his hole, refusing to so much as dip inside until Ianto begs for it. Jack sprawls out on the exam table in the med bay, fisting Ianto’s cock as he delivers the most hilariously, deliberately, dry biology lesson on the differences between their equipment, a wry smirk on his face as Ianto tries not to laugh through his own hand job and still explore the hard slightly curved length in his own grip.

 

Weeks are turning into months and sometimes this thing with Jack, the alpha’s slow playful seduction, is the only thing left in his life that doesn’t hurt somehow. Ianto doesn’t let himself think about how he’s coming to the Hub as much for Jack as he is for Lisa and if he finds himself wondering, a bit impatiently, how many steps Jack intends on babying him through before fucking him then he just tells himself it has to be because he’s trying to gauge how much more time he can buy for Lisa.

And then he repeats it until it’s close enough to true. At least until Jack smiles at him again.


End file.
